


Thaumaturgy

by grandfatherclock



Series: Edubation [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Community: widojest love, F/M, Lingerie, Oral Sex, Safeword Use, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandfatherclock/pseuds/grandfatherclock
Summary: She bites the inside of her cheek with one of her fangs, looking around his room as she waits. It’smessyas rooms go—a busy desk full of notes and paper, vials of ink set aside with a quill resting on one of the pages. There are other notes pinned up on a bulletin board, and Jester can spy strange arcane runes on them, along with messy scrawl in Zemnian. The curtains are a deep red, too thick to allow the moonlight in, but it’salright, it isn’t as if sheneedsto light up the decidedlyunromanticarcane lanterns with their bright light, she has darkvision and she bought all these candles for areason. She reaches for the pillow and fluffs it as she strains her ears, waiting, waiting,waiting—She hears familiar even footfalls—Cayleb’s footfalls, she thinks giddily, running her tongue over her teeth as she prepares herself on the bed, back into her position on her knees with her arms braced in front of her—and resists the urge tosqueal. Her tail is movinguncontrollably, the bell tied to it makingclinkingnoises, and she tilts her head, looking to the door with aneagersmile as it creaksopen—





	Thaumaturgy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has featured art by [@oathbreaker14](https://oathbreaker14.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr for the widojest collaboration!
> 
> Thank you to do [@dorcasdeadowes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorcasdeadowes/pseuds/dorcasdeadowes) for beta'ing!

Jester sits on Caleb’s bed with an impish smile, her tail flicking around her as she watches the wooden door intently. The lingerie is pretty and soft on her body, the garters don’t pinch at _all_, and she sits on her knees, trying not to rumple Caleb’s bed sheets too much as she wrings her hands in them in her excitement.

She bites the inside of her cheek with one of her fangs, looking around his room as she waits. It’s messy as rooms go—a busy desk full of notes and paper, vials of ink set aside with a quill resting on one of the pages. There are other notes pinned up on a bulletin board, and Jester can spy strange arcane runes on them, along with messy scrawl in Zemnian. The curtains are a deep red, too thick to allow the moonlight in, but it’s alright, it isn’t as if she needs to light up the decidedly unromantic arcane lanterns with their bright light, she has darkvision and she bought all these candles for a reason. She reaches for the pillow and fluffs it as she strains her ears, waiting, waiting, _waiting_—

She hears familiar even footfalls—_Cayleb’s footfalls_, she thinks giddily, running her tongue over her teeth as she prepares herself on the bed, back into her position on her knees with her arms braced in front of her—and resists the urge to _squeal_. Her tail is moving _uncontrollably_, the bell tied to it making clinking noises, and she tilts her head, looking to the door with an eager smile as it creaks open.

Caleb’s hand stills on the doorknob, his jaw shifting as his gaze flits over what Jester’s changed in his room. She smiles proudly as his lips quirk up fondly at all the candles placed over the floor and on the desk beside his notes. They’re splayed carefully on the bookshelf too, all lit and flickering with soft little flames that wash the entire room in a delicate orange hue that trembles and startles. His nose shifts slightly, probably catching the pretty perfume her mother recommended to her that smells all sweet, making her lungs all warm as she inhales the scent. The candles are all tied with matching pink ribbons, and his half-smile _widens_ as his gaze drags on one, looking to her with his mouth open to _say _something—

The words die in his throat as he _stares_ at her, eyes wide and body perfectly still. Jester _knows_ what he sees—the pretty white lace of her lingerie stark against her freckled blue of her breasts and chest and legs, all soft and strappy around the smooth and toned expanse of her skin. Her delicate brassiere perfectly pushing her breasts up, and light cloth that he can _absolutely _see through stretching over her stomach, decorated with small little hearts that are light and pink. Her panties that just _perfectly_ match her brassiere. Jester actually _flushes_ slightly as his gaze slides to the frilly white garter belt that holds up her white fishnet stockings, the occasional heart interrupting the open diamond-shaped knit. Her tail has a pretty pink ribbon tied to it that holds up a silver bell, matching the intricate curling pattern of the ribbons on her horns. She winks at him playfully, and he watches her eyelids for a moment, watches how they're painted a glittering white.

“Jester,” he says, smiling as he closes the door behind him. Jester’s eyes rake over him eagerly—he’s wearing a faded white shirt and simple trousers, his hair all pretty and that usual kind of disheveled from the day-to-day. Jester can’t wait to get it _her_ kind of disheveled, the thought of her fingers with her nails painted pink running through his hair makes her tail swish excitedly, the bell _clink-clink-clinking_ as it moves. His pale blue eyes look bright in the candlelight, the flickering of the little flames making his beautiful face look shadowed and _perfect_. His hair looks _fiery_ as he walks to his bed, careful to avoid tipping over any of the candles, and Jester grins up at him as he raises a hand to rest it against her cheek. His rough fingers feel like _heaven_, and he curls a finger under her chin, lifting it.

“_Heyyyyy_,” Jester says, trying not to shiver at his claiming touch. Her tail flicks about, impishly inching towards him. His blackened thumb runs along her cheekbone, his eyes intent on her flushing face, and Jester exhales, leaning up as her tail reaches for him. The heart-shaped spade strokes his cheek, mirroring _his_ movement. It runs along his jawline, under his chin—and _ah_, she widens her eyes as he holds the spade in his hand. She pouts, about to say teasingly that he’s being _unfair_, but the sound dies in her throat as he curls her tail around his hand, gripping it firmly. He doesn’t do much else, just watches her face, and Jester tilts her head. Her hair is pinned up, neck all exposed, and she _notices_ how his eyes watch that freckled delicate skin.

“Hey,” he repeats, tearing his gaze away from her to look at her tail wrapped around his hand. He bites the inside of his cheek and then exhales through his teeth. Her tail is freckled _too_, the colouration darker around the spade, and the ribbon-tied bell lower down clinks as she moves slightly. Her tail swishes as she shifts her weight from one knee to the other. “Can I… can I have a colour, Lavorre?” 

Jester _blinks_, straightening up and a _beaming_ smile starting to crawl onto her face. _He’s using the colours_, she thinks dizzily, remembering their conversation.

Caleb runs a thumb over her spade. “Is this okay?”

“_Yes_,” Jester promises, her hands on her knees. The cloth of her stockings is comforting under her fingers, her legs feeling all pretty and cinched up. The garter stretches and moves as she shifts, her excited energy just _barely_ being contained. She resists the urge to bite her lower lip, not quite wanting her translucent but glittery lipstick to stain her teeth. His hand raises, and she sighs as his fingers begin to play with the earring that dangles from her ear to her horn. “_Green_, Cayleb.” She flutters her eyelashes at him, _loving_ how his eyes snap to her as he watches the way the movement exposes how her eyelids are painted. She knows they must glitter in the candlelight, and his eyes look so _dark_, the clench of his jaw so _wanting..._

Jester _sighs_ as he jerks on her tail. It isn’t hard enough to injure, just a momentary sensation that has her leaning up from where she was previously resting on her folded legs. That bell _clinks_ as his hand finally curves to rest firmly at the nape of her neck.

Jester wonders if her get-up is affecting her mindset, if it's making everything more _intense. _Her breathing is already slightly uneven in all her anticipation, and he hasn’t even _kissed_ her yet. She watches how he holds onto her tail so confidently, thumb grazing the delicate skin like it's his to play with. She whimpers, sighing this soft and wanting sound that makes Caleb smile. He leans closer, directing her with his hand to her neck, and he stops just short of her lips. His just barely brush hers.

“Cayleb,” she mumbles, her lips touching his as she speaks. He’s so _warm_, and she could pull forward easily. Break through this hold in a _second._

But she doesn’t _want_ to.

* * *

_ Art by [@oathbreaker14](https://oathbreaker14.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr._

* * *

Caleb smiles, those pale eyes still watching her. Their noses are beside each other, lightly touching, and she can feel his breath against her face, knows he must feel _hers _against his. He smells of incense and ink, along with other scents—wood, maybe. That strange and comforting smell that comes from walking in the woods, surrounded by that glorious canopy of trees. He smells _earthy_, and Jester _wants_ to lean forward, wants to press her lips against his.

Caleb’s hand on her neck is firm_, _though_,_ and if she were allowed to move, he would’ve said so.

“Will you be good for me, blueberry?” His voice is low, his lips quirked up with amusement. Every word causes his lips to brush against hers, and this is _hell_, and this is _heaven_, this is _everything_.

Jester uses _Thaumaturgy_, murmuring to herself quietly in Infernal, to make the candles flicker slightly as she makes this _leetel_ whining noise. From how his eyes narrow, already half-lidded as they are, Jester _knows_ he didn’t miss it. She wonders if his clever mind knows what she is planning for the two of them—it _really_ wouldn't surprise her if he did, but she's chaotic where he's perceptive.

“Promise,” she whispers, and as she watches him _move_ she flutters her eyes shut. Their lips slant into a kiss, all hard and demanding and _warm_, his mouth is always so _warm_. Her hands clench on her knees to stop herself herself from reaching for him and she moans into his mouth as he tugs her tail again. This pull is harder and jerking her close, her pretty brassiere up against his shirt. He’s so _warm_ against her, and Jester comes up closer, closer _still._

“You can use your hands,” he says when they pull apart, smiling where her knuckles are whitening from how they grip the cloth of her pretty stockings. His gaze drags on one of the designed hearts.

Jester grins, reaching to put her hands on his shoulders from where he’s still standing, leaning over her. His other hand leaves the nape of her neck, traveling down the dip of her spine, and she shivers as he leaves kisses on the corner of her mouth and then down her jawline, his thumb tracing over her garter belt and the transparent cloth stretching over her back. She _sighs_ as he bites into her neck, scraping his teeth against her bare freckled skin there, no longer curtained by her hair, and tries not to tremble as his fingers play with the delicate white cloth of her panties, pulling it back and _snapping_ it against her skin. Her fingers dig into his shoulders to brace herself but he doesn’t wince, just smiles wider as he continues to kiss her neck, continues to trail his hand down her ass, his thumb running over the crease where it meets her thigh.

Jester moans as she feels him push the two of them back onto the bed, arching into him as much as she’s able as she feels his warm covered body against hers. She holds his shoulders he angles her to his liking on the bed, her head against the pillow as he leans over her. His hand not holding her tail braces him. Caleb's hair falls forward from that, long enough that looks all pretty draping around his head, and he smiles as he kisses her again, his thumb running in maddeningly light little circles on her spade.

Her legs raise up eagerly to curl around him but she stills when the hand on her ass _tightens_ and the other reaches out to gently push one of her legs down. Jester _pouts_ against his lips, and he pulls back, laughing silently as he catches her lower lip with his teeth, biting letting go.

Jester sighs as she feels the light stinging pain.

“Patience, Schatz,” he murmurs, kissing her nose before lowering himself down, hands coming to rest on her waist. He watches the pretty fabric against his hands for a moment, the delicate white against his blackened fingertips, and there’s _something_ that flits on his expression—a twist to his lips, a look that’s a little close to shame, a crease to his forehead. It’s so _strange_, she doesn’t see this _much_, but… envy. A delicate, admiring kind, but as he kisses her sternum, scraping his teeth against her collarbone and causing her to writhe against the bed sheet and moan, she can’t help but find that _interesting_, find that _curious_. There are things that bring shadows into Caleb’s eyes, things she doesn’t quite understand, but there’s a _reverence_ in how he looks at her lingerie.

“Colour?” Jester mumbles as Caleb cups a hand over her breast, squeezing lightly and making a moan escape past her parted lips. It's _maddening_ having the promising drag of his rough fingers over her nipples so close. Her breasts are so _perfectly _on display for him, all wanton and pushed up, and it _really _is a shame to have it off already, but she _needs_ him to touch her there, she thinks she might honestly die if he doesn’t.

Caleb blinks at her, jaw shifting like he wants to ask _why_ she’s asking, what he allowed to escape past his carefully controlled expression. He doesn’t, though, just smiles and accepts the care her searching eyes offer him. His hands travel to her back, clever fingers carefully undoing the hook where the brassiere is tightly cinched up, and Jester grins as she feels him release it so _easily_. She’d fumbled with it for so long, praying to the Traveler and casting _Sending_ to her mother to get advice. “Green,” he whispers as the brassiere loosens on her breasts, and Jester watches him pull off the soft material and curl both his hands on her breasts. He massages them, his rough blackened thumbs reaching to play with her nipples in even movements.

Jester _whines_, moaning as he comes close, pinching her left nipple before taking it into his mouth. She throws her head back, her hair curled into a high bun being slightly loosened by her sharp movement, and her fingers tighten into his covered shoulders. He _needs_ to lose his shirt, and she sighs as he sucks, his tongue and lips and teeth all practiced as he makes her shift under him. He switches to her other breast soon enough, and Jester’s moans seem to _flutter_ in her chest, everything feeling light and soft and hazy. Caleb hums under his breath, letting go of her nipple after scraping his teeth against it, and Jester figures _now_ is a good a time as _any _to use _Thaumaturgy_. She clenches her jaw and _casts_ as he continues to shift down, murmuring breathlessly in Infernal, breathless until he _snaps_ her garter against her thigh to make her _gasp_—

The candles flicker pink, cascading them in such _soft_ light, and Caleb looks up, eyes wide as she _grins_ at him. Her blue skin looks so _warm_, nearly _purple_, the white of the lace looking even _more_ delicate in the new colour, and _Caleb?_ Caleb looks _radiant_ in this hue, hair ethereal and delicate skin glowing all bright. His pale blue eyes reflect the pink so _perfectly_, and she _squeals _as he pulls back up, pulling her into a possessive and _hard_ kiss, tongue fucking into her mouth in a way that has her _arching_ into him, her hands _clumping_ on the cloth of his shirt. “_Perfect_,” he hisses against her lips, pulling back to pull off his shirt. Jester watches with eager eyes as his soft pale skin is revealed, his lean frame scarred and _perfect_ in that half-second as his arms are raised, his worn shirt in the process of being rucked up.

Jester looks to the skin of his throat longingly, her fangs would be just _perfect_ sinking in there, but Caleb’s in charge tonight. She simply lets her hands curl back onto his pale shoulders again, before running them over his skin and down his sides as he kisses her, rough and claiming until she’s _moaning,_ twisting in the sheets. He pulls back, lips trailing down her chest until he’s leaving chaste little kisses on her stomach, covered by that light, translucent fabric. Jester waits for him to pull it down, but he _doesn’t_, seeming content enough to kiss her through it. Her hands are back on his shoulders, and she watches her nails leave pretty little marks from how she presses into his skin. “_Cayleb_,” she mumbles.

He looks up at her, and—_oh_. His eyes are _glittering_, his head tilted in that way when he gets into a _mood,_ and he reaches for her hand. Jester watches with wide eyes as he pulls it—_warm_, she thinks, her brain all soft and hazy, _he’s so warm, you’re so warm_—onto his head, onto his hair. Jester raises an eyebrow, and Caleb _yanks_ with his hand still wrapped around her tail, making her _arch_ and the bell _clink_ and her fingers instinctively tighten from the momentary pain. “You’re wrapped so nicely, blueberry,” he sighs, going lower down up until his face is right up against her cunt. Jester _knows_ she’s wet, _knows_ her wetness is staining her underwear lightly, and her thighs shift as she feels his breath against her panties, he’s so _close_. She has to _force_ her hips not to jerk up to meet his lips that are just on the _cusp_—and _oh_, he’s reaching down, nose against her underwear where her folds are, inhaling.

Jester thinks she might actually die, he’s so _close._ Her other hand not in his hair tightens on his shoulder, and her legs _tense_ as she feels his tongue against her cloth. _Fuck_, what the _fuck_, her fingers _dig _into him, _trying_ not to move, _trying_ not to shift—

Caleb sighs, sounding a little disappointed. “I have to unwrap you, blueberry,” he whispers against her panties, and Jester _whimpers_ as she feels his lips move against her covered folds. He moves back, and Jester _forces_ herself not to follow his clever lips, forces herself to keep her hips against the rumpled bed sheets. Caleb smiles sympathetically as Jester watches him with dark eyes and lets go of his shoulder to use that arm to brace up and watch him. He squeezes her ass with his tail-entangled hand as his other hand easily uncinches her garter, allowing the thin strips of white fabric to loosen, no longer attached to her stockings. Jester _grins_ as Caleb _pulls_ down her panties, all the way down her fishnet-covered legs, and then _gasps_ as Caleb reaches back, pulling a leg over his shoulder to _further_ part her thighs. He curls a hand on her ass to brace himself, and leans close, close, closer _still_—

Jester _arches _as his tongue runs through his folds, the pink _brightening_ for a moment before the flames recede to their previous state. His hand squeezes her ass again, tight enough to be warning, and Jester _whimpers_ as she forces herself back down. Caleb’s lips hook around her clit, sucking gently with the _slightest_ hint of teeth, and Jester tightens her hand in his hair, her fingers running through his soft strands as she braces herself. Caleb pulls back, making a desperate sound pull out from Jester’s throat, and gives her a sympathetic smile, his thumb running in soft circles over her ass. He lets go then, and reaches for her cunt, replacing his lips that were playing with her clit with two rough fingers, pinching and rolling it between them. She grips the bed sheet with her hand _desperately_, trying not to move her hips to his touch.

Caleb smiles, watching her through his eyelashes. When he catches her face, her painted lips parted and sighing, her eyes fluttering shut every so often before the movement of his fingers has her _snapping_ her eyes open, he gives her a slow deliberate wink. Jester _stares_ as he _finally _presses a finger into her entrance, his other hand on the leg on his shoulder, keeping her steady there. His hand alternates between thumbing at her clit and pressing into her inner walls as he kisses her thighs visible above her fishnet stockings. His other hand appreciatively threads over the soft fabric, head lowering to leave light marks along her skin and tongue _dragging_ against the freckled blue there. “You look so _lovely_, Schatz,” he whispers against her skin, interrupting the silence otherwise only punctuated by Jester’s moans and the sounds of his finger _in _her.

“D-danke,” she stutters, trying so _hard_ not to move. Her hips roll slightly despite herself, but Caleb doesn’t seem too bothered, only pausing to pinch her clit before leaning close again to suck on it. Jester nearly _jerks_ into his mouth, only managing to stop herself in the last moment, the moans slipping past her lips more and more choked. He looks so _lovely_, his back all cascaded in pink, and all Jester can think about how much she’s like to _mark _all of him the next time she’s in charge. The bruises on his shoulders aren’t _nearly _enough, and Jester’s lips open and _groan_ as she feels him add another finger. “_Ah,_” she moans, her arms all tense, her fingers so _tight_ in his hair. She doesn’t push him, just holds him with her shaking hand._ Fuck_, she can _hear_ the bell on her tail _clinking_ as her tail shifts with every _thrust _of his fingers… 

“I want you to come, Lavorre,” Caleb says, and he says it so _fast_, so _certainly_, that Jester has to tense her legs not to come right _then, _right there with his little half-smile and dark eyes. Caleb feels her clench around his fingers, and _curls_ them in that way that makes her _whimper_, makes her throw her head back as she braces herself against that _pillow_. Her hair is a _mess_, falling all around her face as she closes her eyes tightly, and she _moans_ as she feels his tongue against her clit, his lips so _rough _around it. And _oh_, his _teeth_—he _bites_, making her grip on his hair tighter again in that way that makes him _sigh_ against her, making Jester _tense_ on his fingers inside her _again_, and she feels them stretch on her inner walls, pushing, pushing, _pushing_—

Jester’s entire world turns _white_, the pink beaming brighter—and it’s _hot_, divine, nearly _neon_ in how the candles shine, seeming scalding and powerful and _ethereal_ in that moment. Caleb looks ghostly when she comes too, hair looking bright and gorgeous as he continues to run his tongue across her cunt through her orgasm, fingers continuing to move inside her until she makes a noise of discomfort. He pulls up, kissing her, and when Jester curls a leg around his waist, her white fishnet stocking stretching along the movement of her toned blue leg, he doesn’t stop her, whispering praise against her bruised lips. Jester _giggles_ with exhausted delight as she traces a finger over Caleb’s lower lip. “I got some lipstick on you.” It’s faint, barely noticeable except for the _shimmer_, and Jester smiles as he kisses her shoulder. “You look _prettyyyy_, Cayleb.”

“... Thank you, blueberry,” he sighs, raising his head to look carefully at her. The shimmer really _does_ look _gorgeous _against his pink lips, and Jester smiles as he leans close after a hesitant moment, kissing her chastely. This one is more careful than the others, his lips pressed perfectly against hers, and Jester realizes with a raised eyebrow and a beaming grin that he’s _trying_ to get her lipstick on him. He’s fucking _stunning_ when he pulls back, lips all pretty, hair disheveled around his pale face in this lovely androgynous beauty, and he _flushes _slightly as she watches him hungrily. “Lavorre,” he sighs, and then _grins _as her gaze goes to his trousers where she can see the outline of his hardened dick pressing against the fabric. “Your recovery time is _incredible_.”

“_Thank youuuu_,” Jester _sings_, the pink flames flickering slightly as Caleb pulls off the bed, finally letting go of her tail to pull down his pants and kick them off where they pool around his legs. He pulls off his underwear next, his cock straining against it, and lets out this light laugh as he watches Jester bite her lower lip, _staring_ at him. She can’t _help_ it, she’s _eager_, and Caleb grin as he reaches for a cabinet in his desk, pulling out a small jar of oil. Jester braces herself on that pillow, an arm tensing on it, and she watches him smear oil on his cock, slicking it and getting ready.

He’s standing there, looking _perfect_ stroking himself, and her grin _widens_ as he walks to her, his movement _strange_—his eyes are dark as leans close, hovering over her into a kiss. Jester _knows_ he’s watching her violet eyes in the pink light, _knows_ he’s watching his own glowing reflection, _knows_ he’s watching how he presents himself to her. She can see it in how he flutters his eyes closed for a moment, knows it in the sigh he makes, knows that twisting vanity that he slides into sometimes, can feel it in how he holds himself, in how he parts her thighs as he pulls back, standing up on the bed and _pulling_ her with him by his grip on her fishnet-covered legs. He tilts her head and smiles at her, and she _knows_ this.

Jester sighs, leaning back and allowing herself to relax under his grip. “Hey,” she whispers, as he runs two fingers probing at her entrance for a teasing moment before pushing in, dragging at her interior walls. She’s still loose around his fingers, and she sighs as he thumbs at her clit again, his other hand careful to brace her thigh. He raises an eyebrow at her, leaning over to kiss her raised knee—the sensation of his warm lips against the delicate cloth, perfect against her toned leg, is _everything,_ she loves him so _fucking_ much, she really _does_—and she whimpers as he adds a third finger, the slick of the oil helping to ease the stretch. He curls his fingers, the thumb pressing up against her clit, and she _arches_ in his touch, blinking at the high she feels. “Colour, Cayleb?”

Caleb pauses, his fingers still in her, and gives her a soft smile, one that makes the nerves flitting about in her stomach calm down and surrender to the hazy feeling that comes when he parts his legs like _that_, like she was made for his fingers to play with her, made to warm his hard and oil-slicked cock. “Green,” he assures her, and the way his face is right now _isn’t_ for presentation, _isn’t_ that way he gets when his eyes drag on a mirror too long and his jaw shifts with shame and brittleness when he catches Jester seeing. It’s warm, and when his eyes become half-lidded again, all dark and wanting and _alluring_, she _knows _he _wants_ to be in this headspace with her, _trusts_ her enough to be in this headspace with her. “How about _you,_ Schatz?”

Jester opens her mouth, saying “_Gree_—_hhh—_”, her answer choking off as she feels him shallowly rub the head of his cock against her wet folds. He’s so _hot_, and she can _feel_ it against her, so _close_ but so achingly far away. She could jerk forward and take him in an _instant_, break through his hand on her thigh presenting her to him, lingerie all rumpled and mouth looking thoroughly _used_, but she doesn’t _want _to. She _loves_ when he holds her, loves when he _presents_ her, loves _this_, loves _him_. He watches her patiently, still getting his cock further slicked with her wetness, and she _moans_, her hands tightly clenching at the sheets. “Green,” she manages in between her desperate sounds.

Caleb smiles approvingly, and Jester _trembles_ when he runs his thumb comfortably over her thigh. He pushes in, so _slowly_—he’s prepared her _well_, but she still closes her eyes as she feels the stretch of him in her. His other hand reaches out to brace up her other thigh, making her _moan_ from the movement as it causes her to shift around him. Caleb watches his cock slowly slide into her, inch by inch, and he _rolls_ his hips, thrusting in until he bottoms out, his thighs pressed up against hers as he exhales through his teeth. “Du bist perfekt,” he hisses, fingers tight on her thighs. “Wusstest du das? Wusstest du, dass du perfekt bist?” Jester sighs, trying to stay still for him, and he laughs silently, the grin on his face bright and present and _real_ as he thrusts into her again. “_Perfect_, blueberry.”

Jester moans as he angles her _perfectly_, hands gripping her fishnet-clad skin as he thrusts into her in this patterned movement, praise escaping past his parted lips as he sighs in pleasure. Jester enjoys the way the thrusts push her up against the rumpled sheets, enjoys how the pink candlelight pulses with every snap of his hips. Caleb stares at her almost _reverently_, and Jester thinks of what he must see of her—hair all messy and framing her face as she pants, parted lips whimpering and sighing and _moaning_, a flush to her cheeks and her neck. Jaw and neck and breasts bruised and marked, the cloth of her lingerie all rumpled as she tries _desperately _to be _still_ for him, be _good_ for him. Garter unhooked, her white fishnet-clad legs parted and held up as he thrusts into her. The thought of herself makes her _wet_, more than she already was, and she’s _whimpering_, making these really _obscene_ sounds that make Caleb smile.

He tilts his head and widens the way his lips curve up at her hazy expression, his next thrust even deeper. Jester parts her legs wider, wanting more of him—_more_, she finds herself thinking, _give me more, I want more_—and he _groans_ as Jester tightens around him momentarily with each thrust. Jester feels herself arching slightly on the bed, still braced on her forearms as she watches him—and he’s _beautiful_. His lips still shimmer in the pink light, all messy and smeared with Jester’s lipstick, and his hair looks is perfectly parted, perfectly mussed, perfectly _ethereal_ with his glittering blue eyes and intent gaze. The concentrated half-smile on his face as he thrusts in at that angle that makes her _gasp_, makes her _moan_, makes her _twist_ in place, is fucking _everything_. She can see his thrusts becoming slightly more uneven, probably not helped by how she clenches stubbornly around him, and she grins as their eyes meet, grins at how his fingers _dig_ into her thighs.

Jester, _knowing_ his gaze is intent on her every minute shift, loosens her fingers tight on the bed sheets and finally lets _go,_ moving them to trail over her chest. The pink of her fingernails glitters in the light, and she smiles at him as her hands cup her own breasts, waiting for his retort, waiting for him to _stop_ her—and it doesn’t _come_, only a choked little groan as he watches her massage her own breasts, play with her nipples with her two hands moving identically. He thrusts, pushing her slightly into the bed, and she _moans_—and his eyes _widen_. Jester grins impishly at him, _knowing_ he would see through her even as he chases the tight clench of her cunt around his cock, _knowing_ he would realize she was mirroring the way _he _would touch her breasts. “_Cayleb_,” she sighs, and his dick _twitches_ inside her.

His next thrust is _deep_, making it evidently clear he’s decided now to chase release in earnest. “Oh,” he says, his eyes dark. The shadows play brilliantly on the angles of his face, and Jester watches, memorizing how the flickering pink makes him look with his flushed face and neck. His eyes are watching and _possessive_ on her, and she pinches her nipples as he stares, making him shake his head and smile. “You’re—a—_menace_—Lavorre.” There’s a pause between each word as he _pushes_ into her, pushing her up against the bed, and she arches against the rumpled sheets, clenching insistently at him. His shoulders are trembling slightly, his hands so _tight, _she can’t _wait_ to look at the marks later—

“You—like—it—_though_?” she gasps out, her words interspersed with moans. Her fingers are _tight_ on her nipples, hard and squeezing on her breasts. Caleb’s thrusts are becoming more dragging, spending more and more time inside of her before rolling his hips back, and his own sighs have become more _choked_ as he watches her play with herself, biting her lower lip and looking at him with a wanton gaze. There’s a slight hint of _off_ness in her teasing, a delicate vulnerability, and Caleb meets her eyes, jaw shifting as he drags a hand down her fishnet-clad leg, up where her thigh is bare. His fingers _squeeze_ there for a moment where he previously let a bruise, and Jester watches the mark his fingers leave on her freckled blue skin with delight. “_Cayleb_,” she groans, feeling his hand painfully close to her cunt, lightly resting on the delicate skin above her folds.

“_You_—_are_”—Jester _arches_ as his fingers part her folds, his rough blackened thumb reaching to run circles around her clit, pinching it every so often—“_perfect_,” he hisses, like he would send his fiery wrath at anyone who would dare think otherwise. As he pinches her clit she instinctually tightens around him and twists in the rumpled sheets, and Caleb smiles at her pleading expression as moans keep leaving through her parted lips. “It’s alright, my disaster.” Jester _flushes_ at that, her hands are so _tight_ on her _breasts_—and he begins to _time_ his thrusts to when he rubs her clit in the circular pattern he established with his thumb.

Jester _loses_ herself to sensation, feeling the room _explode_ into brilliant light as the candles burn brighter, brighter, _brighter_ as she tenses her back, eyes closing shut with her lips parted in this _trailing_ moan as she _comes_, feeling herself _tighten _on Caleb’s cock. Her knees are still held apart, and she _feels _the sensation of him thrusting into her, thrusting harder, and _deeper_, stuttering as she _moans_, thrusting until he’s pulling _out. _Jester feels the warmth of his come on her stomach as he lets go of her aching thighs, stumbling to lay next to her on the bed. She feels so laid _out_, so _satisfied_, and allows the pink of the candles to _slowly _trail out, being replaced by the natural orange-red-yellow of the flames.

Caleb pulls her into his arms, and he sighs at the cloth of her lingerie. She opens her mouth to say that it’s _fine, really, _but he just trails a hand over the cloth stretching over her toned stomach. She shivers at his touch and widens her eyes as his come flickers away, Caleb making somatic gestures and saying something arcane under his breath as he cleans her. He sees her face and smiles, raising a hand to push back the hair on her face, hand curving over her cheek. “_Prestidigitation,_” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss her lips. She hums against him, and his little smile widens as he pulls back. “You aren’t the _only _one who can use cantrips for sexual purposes, Schatz.”

Jester scrunches her nose as she grins at him. “You liked the _candles?_” She leans forward and presses her face against his shoulder, smiling where she sees the marks of her fingers there. He notices where her gaze is and shakes his head, looking so _fond_ it makes her heart stutter, makes her lips quirk up as she presses as close as she’s able. Her covered legs press against his legs, seeking out his warmth, and he laughs silently as he runs a hand through her hair, tucking her head in under his chin. She smiles as she feels him play with one of the ribbons on her horns, feeling the cloth between his fingers. “And the _ribbons?”_

“I _loved_ the candles,” Caleb says, kissing the top of her head. “I loved the _pink_, that was… you’re extraordinary, blueberry.” She flushes at his compliment, tail flicking happily, and the silver bell _clinks_ as she moves. He sighs, arms tightening around her. “I loved your outfit, and I _really _loved your bell. You looked… radiant.” He’s _so_ warm around her, his words like _honey_ in her ears, and she’s _melting_ into his embrace, she really is. “You were… like a goddess, you really were.” She looks up to meet his gaze, and he smiles. “You always are.”

Jester smiles helplessly, hands closing into fists from all the _energy _his compliments are giving her. “You looked so good, _too_. In the pink. Ethereal, you _know_?” She flushes _deeper_ as she says _ethereal—_it sounds so _corny_, but it’s _true_. “The lipstick… the lipstick looked _good _on you.” She leans her thumb forward, cleaning it where it smears slightly. “_Looks_ good on you.” She shifts her jaw, their faces so _close. _Her eyes search his careful expression. “If you… if you ever wanted to try it…” She remembers how he eyed her lingerie, remembers the way his lips twisted, and keeps her face soft, keeps her voice gentle. “Or… or if you ever wanted to try on _lingerie_, Mama knows all _about _that kinda stuff, she helped me find _this_.” She bites her lower lip anxiously, she doesn’t want to step on his _toes_… but she doesn’t want to live with all this silence between them _either_, she wants to _know_ him. She wants him to _tell_ her, or to… have him trust her. Have him allow her to _earn _his trust.

Caleb bites his lower lip, and exhales, running a hand through his hair. He looks… hesitant, but not _closed off_, and she smiles, threading her fingers in his. He looks at their hands together, her freckled blue one with his pale one, fingertips burnt and calloused, and exhales, slumping his shoulders as if in preparation. “I don’t… clothes that are too… form-fitting, too _nice_ are…” He winces, and Jester squeezes his hand, looking at him with open eyes. “I don’t know. Not right now. Maybe someday.”

“Okay,” Jester whispers, raising his hand to kiss it. Caleb _watches_, being entirely too still, and that’s how Jester _knows_ he’s hiding his relief at how easily she agreed to what he said. She smothers the _rage_ that’s starting to push past her hazy beaming joy—_today will be beautiful_, she thinks stubbornly, _everything about today will be beautiful_—and just leans forward, kissing his forehead. He closes his eyes as she presses her lips against his heated skin, and smiles gratefully as she begins to talk about how her mother helped her _find _this set, it wasn’t _cheap, Cayleb_. She curls into him, as close as she’s able, head back against his shoulder, and she smiles against his skin as he dozes.

The moonlight doesn’t show through the heavy curtained windows, but it's alright. Jester gets up and blows each candle shut carefully, and pears back at Caleb with her darkvision. She’ll see through his dark, and _he_—her cheeks darken as she recalls his _face_ as he called her a_ menace_, thrusting into her—he can see through her light.


End file.
